


Those Same Hands

by Snowpiercer



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27489565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowpiercer/pseuds/Snowpiercer
Summary: Those same hands that had brought death to many, had brought life to many others.
Relationships: Collins & Farrier (Dunkirk)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6
Collections: 'Hands'





	Those Same Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Entering a timed prompt challenge?? Absolutely ridiculous

1946.

They had both survived the war. Just. They were both together now, both alive, both trying to move on.

Some days it was easier; the sun came out to play and they would sit together basking in it, maybe play a game of chess, maybe talk of the world, of fond memories from the sky and the great beyond they’d flown to.

Other days were hard. Other days all Collins could remember was what it felt like to inhale water, what it felt like to _know_ that it was going to be the last time he would see his wingmate for a very long time. Some days Farrier couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. He could have saved more men, he could have done more. If he hadn’t been such a hero he could have kept saving people throughout the entire war, but instead he spent it in a Prisoner Of War camp doing nothing to help.

But all days, they remembered love. They had come to know how they had to live, how they had to hide. In other ways though, they could be as vocal and as flamboyant about their love as they liked. Behind closed doors Farrier was more romantic than one might first assume. Behind the same doors, Collins was more a mother hen than he let on. Cooking, playing music, tending a garden.

They still flew, but it was different now. No longer were the planes armed with bullets, no longer were their hands tensed to pull a trigger.

Those same hands that had brought death to many, had brought life to many others.

The weight those two pairs of hands felt, the weight their owners carried with them.

“Mm, come get some rest,” Farrier murmured to Collins. He was up late trying to scribble some sort of shopping list down for market the next morning.

“Not yet, I need to finish this.”

Farrier walked up to the chair his partner was sat at.

“You don’t, you can do it tomorrow pet,” he said softly. He looked down over Collins’ shoulder to see what things the man supposed they needed. The writing was completely different to the blonde’s usual legible cursive. 

“Collins, what’s the matter?”

Of course, was there ever just one thing? Could one ever pinpoint something that even resembled an answer? Not when you’d lived through a war, not seen your partner for so long and when you had you were both completely different people. Not when you’d lost your best friends, and possibly yourself to the war. Collins decided maybe he did need to stop writing for the night, so begrudgingly he put the pen down and stood up.

Farrier took his hands gently, they had smears of pen on the sides and were warm. Collins’ hands were shaking. It happened sometimes, ever since he’d first crashed into the ocean. That was when it really began. At first Farrier noticed in the letters he received in the POW camp from Collins. The writing wasn’t how he remembered it. Now, he could see his hands with his own eyes. Now, he could do something about it. Farrier caressed Collins’ palms with his thumbs, waiting for the man to relax his hands properly. How sturdy Farrier’s hands always were. That was something that never did change about him. It was something that had made him a great shot in the air, and now it was something that grounded Collins more than most. For all that Farrier wasn’t as strong as the wall he put up, the calm strength in his hands wasn’t a façade.

“Thank you,” Collins said quietly.

Farrier’s lips twitched upwards in a small smile, Collins’ hands still in his.

Those same hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this, I haven't written much lately so even just a little stint like this feels good. (As usual, apologies for angst )
> 
> [ My tumblr if anyone is curious (: ](https://s-n-o-w-p-i-e-r-c-e-r.tumblr.com)


End file.
